


Dreaming

by A_Voice_Lost_In_The_Wind



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Dominance, Drugs, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, Kidnapping, M/M, Pack Dynamics, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 10:34:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20581097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Voice_Lost_In_The_Wind/pseuds/A_Voice_Lost_In_The_Wind
Summary: Please feel free to leave suggestions or comments!





	Dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to leave suggestions or comments!

The Great War, had been a long time coming, but still in a way it was a shock. Wesen turning on Grimm’s, kidnapping, drugging those who fit the criteria, and slaughtering the rest. Families destroyed so that no further Grimms could rise from the ashes of this war, no one had asked for or prepared for. 

Any Wesens who had dared to side with the Grimm’s ended up missing or dead, and any Grimm’s that were found, were no longer recognizable. That was the start of the underground trade. The humans. All the while had remained completely clueless. Linking the attacks to gangs, and who would dare to out them?

When the former detective had been taken, he had fought. Given everything in him to escape. He had taken and survived every humiliating, excessively cruel punishment, until he had seen the first hand proof of his makeshift family leaving him behind. They had stopped searching for him, and those same eyes that had once burned with determination, seemed to scream a heartbreaking mixture of ‘can you see me’ and ‘please don’t see me’.

“Pet, I do not know why you insist on causing such a scene.” Another blow, mixing with the sounds of bones crushing, the resounding shriek that filled the room, echoed and created an unforgettable melody, “You must enjoy this for all the fits you give me.”

The shadow of a man, pressed further into the wall, sobs racking, his thin and mostly black and blue form, “N-”

“Don’t you dare tell me no Grimm! Have you forgotten your place?”

How was he supposed to answer? No was what he was told not to say, and yet it was the only word that would form on his tongue. He simply shook his head, and as the wesen approached him, like the big bad wolf on a poor trapped rabbit, he could only submit to his screams and the sounds of remorse, that filled the room. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tracking down Nick BurkHardt, had been one of the hardest things Monroe had ever done. Watching hours of film, that still made his blood boil and insuring a trail of bodies were left in his wake. It was less than what Rosalee had wanted to do, but it made a compelling argument. Give us our information or end up dead, like the innocents you killed before us.

“Are you sure?” Hank asked crossing his arms over his chest as he stared over the hours of documentation that had been collecting on the kitchen table for months.

The fuchsbau just barely resisted rolling her eyes, “Of course or we wouldn’t have brought you here. We have spent years looking.” Her hand shoved a rather rough looking picture into the detective’s hands.

The picture was crumpled at the edge, a sign of how tightly either Rosalee or Monroe had gripped it upon its discovery. In the center was a cage, and inside a hardly recognizable Grimm, “This is an auction sheet for tonight…”

Monroe nodded as he stood from the table, “And the police are not invited. This is a Blutbadden ran auction mill. You would be dead before you could even draw your gun. Besides, this is something we have to do Hank.”

“No. Absolutely not. I was there the night he was taken, he has to know that no one forgot about him. The department left his desk alone, just like the day he left, because we knew he would be coming back to us. You can’t just go buy him and keep him hidden the rest of his life.” 

Rosalee laid a hand on the trembling dark shoulder, “We would never dream of it, but Nick is not going to be the same man who disappeared that day.”

Hank looked towards Rosalee, “And how will you explain his rescue? Keep him hidden for months, hell with what he’s been through, let’s be blunt it would be years before he is normal. He needs medical help, counseling, so much more than just you.”

“Don’t assume to know everything. It is a rarity in our world, but two people can share one soulmate, and Nick, he is that person. He is pack and as part of a pack, we take care of our own. We know a counselor who happens to help survivors who have escaped, just so happens, he is a Grimm. As for the medical side, Rosalee can handle most of it, until he can be safely introduced to everyone again. You want him to snap and murder some innocent Wesen? It would kill him and you know it!”

Rosalee snarled, pushing herself between the pair, “Look sitting here, screaming about what to do, isn’t going to help him. Just let us get Nick out of there, and then the department can tear that place apart. Burn it for all I care, just let us get him somewhere he is familiar with.” 

“And what about Juliett?” 

“That bitch better stay away, because I didn’t tear her throat out when we found out, but I will if she comes within fifty feet of him.”

````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Another auction day. It would make his eighty-seventh placement home, if he was selected tonight. This part of his new life was something he was incredibly familiar with. Scrub down, dolled up (as if any amount of makeup could hide all the damage), perform, get sold, survive for a few months, and then wind up in a different sale house. 

“Pull 183, he sold before the stage time.”

“But if the boss find-”

“When the boss finds out how much we got for him, it won’t matter. He only has a few months left in him anyway.”

It was only then, that as his half drugged conscious reminded him that he was 183. His name is long gone, a number suited all causes and it avoided any problems identifying same named Grimm’s. While stripping them of what little piece of their identity they tried to hold onto. 

A small whine of protest escaped, as he was pulled to his feet. His brain begging them to remember how to brace his weight, so he could walk and not be drug down the hallway, but alas they failed him and he cried out, impacting the hard cement, “He’s all yours. No refunds and no reselling in this building. He gets to be too much either put him out of his misery, or find somewhere to dump him.”

“Ah Nicky.. Come on man.” That voice was so familiar and yet he couldn’t place it as the world blurred out to black once again. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rosalee make quick work of pulling on one of Monroe’s oversized shirts, onto the battered form, not bothering with pants. Her soft hand, unlike many that had touched his skin lately, brushing through his soft, but mostly greasy black curls and down onto his right cheek, “Shush Nicky. You’re safe. Just sleep now.”

Monroe pulled the thick quilt over his form, “I think we need to make him some soup, based on his size, he hasn’t eaten in a few months. Bud dropped off a few gifts from the Eisbibers, they seemed to have missed their friendly local Grimm.”

Rosalee snorted softly, as she began shaking her head, “He won’t be ready for guests for awhile, and soup would be easier than trying to get him to take some medicine.”

Monroe watched his wife crawl up into the bed, curling around the Grimm, his own form coming to rest beside her, “Rosalee, you can-”

“Don’t you dare tell me I can’t hold him. I have waited years to hold him. He was, well still kind of is on the brink of death.”

The blutbad swallowed the lump in his throat as he pressed a kiss to her temple, “Fine… Just don’t wake him up. I have heard of what their panic attacks have made them do.”

“I know… But one of these days, we won’t have to worry.”

One of these days… Yet both the wesen would wait a lifetime to be able to hold and cherish their lover like they wanted too.


End file.
